


bite the hand that feeds

by shuijing



Series: little box of horrors [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Happy Halloween!!, Horror, M/M, Minor Character Death, Power Dynamics, Supernatural Elements, The Author Regrets Everything, minor implied praise kink-ish things, please read beginning notes for warnings!!!!, the mature warning is for all the other disturbing shit in here, there is nothing Spicy in this fic though jus a kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 13:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuijing/pseuds/shuijing
Summary: A monster is still a monster, even if you put him on a leash and make him yours.





	bite the hand that feeds

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: blood (so much blood), gore, graphic (ish) descriptions of violence and death, casual discussions of death. also idk if this is a tw for anyone but there's a very clear power imbalance if that makes you uncomfy. if there's anything i forgot to tag please lmk in the comments!
> 
> this is heavily inspired by [this luten fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926073) so i guess you can blame that absolutely stunning piece of work coupled with my own closeted love for gory supernatural fiction for whatever this is

Jisung's dragon hide gloves seem like leather most of the time, which is good for not attracting unwanted attention. But he does like the way they glimmer in light reflected off pure gold. That's a rare sight in his line of work, so whenever he goes to Changbin’s nicely furbished bar, he takes a few moments to admire the iridescent shimmer on his hands.

There's hardly anyone here except them, just two men on the barstools nursing beers and a group of women talking in low, melodic tones, the kind that carry over like a song and choke you like a noose. Changbin’s bar is always quiet, but that's to be expected. People only come here to look for jobs, or trouble. For him, Jisung supposes, the distinction between the two blurred a long time ago. He sits at a booth close enough to signal Changbin for a drink, but far enough that the other patrons think they can stare without him noticing.

Ah, he wishes he had the privilege of wondering what exactly they're staring at, but he knows. Minho, with his marble-sculpted face and quietly intense eyes, the collar around his neck and the chain linking him to Jisung, is very hard not to stare at. 

Let them stare. He feels the back of his neck prickle with the heat of their gazes, and smirks. Good. Staring makes Minho agitated, makes him eager. Already, he feels the tightness building in Minho's jaw, the budding growl in the base of his throat. He strokes Minho's arm under the table, fingers whispering over cold skin, and jingles the chain, just once. Minho goes quiet immediately, the tension bleeding out of him like it was never there at all. The heat dissipates.

Changbin serves the drink at the same time Jisung's client enters the bar. The bartender casts a glance at him and exhales something between a sigh and a laugh. "Fuck you," he tells Jisung sincerely. "I don’t need a skirmish between your pet and that fox here."

Minho bares his teeth, fangs glinting like twin beacons of light in the darkness. Jisung smiles placatingly. "He doesn't like being called that."

"You put a beast in a chain and collar, Jisung, and people are bound to talk," Changbin says, shaking his head. Jisung shrugs. He can't say he didn't expect people to get the wrong idea, but since it's Changbin, he lets it slide, lets him walk back to the bar without undoing Minho's chain.

Jisung's client slides into the seat opposite him, reaching for the drink immediately and tipping half of it down his throat. Jisung lets him; that drink wasn't for him, anyway. "You got a job for me, Jeongin?"

Jeongin finishes his drink first, the ears atop his head twitching in pleasure. "You know the Hwang boy?" He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Jisung frowns. "I know that he's dead."

"Congratulations, so does everyone and their mother," Jeongin says flatly. His tails flick lazily behind him. Minho's eyes follow the movement. "Then you'd know he was probably—no, definitely murdered." Jisung tilts his head, neither confirming nor denying. "Got someone who wants the killer dead. _Bad._ Probably for love or whatever the fuck."

"Well, _love or whatever the fuck_ always pays well," Jisung says mildly. Minho huffs out something like a laugh.

"Yeah, I know, a fat paycheck is coming your way," Jeongin says. Jisung leans back in his seat, satisfied. He gets paid hefty sums for his job, but that's to be expected, too. He's good at what he does. With Minho, he's better.

"Also," Jeongin's lips twist into a coy smile. "I'm hungry."

Jisung raises his eyebrows. "Will you be paying extra?"

The smile drops off Jeongin's face. "Seriously? It'll take literally five seconds. You don't even need it! I don't know what you eat, hyung, but it certainly isn't human. And the only meal that thing eats is _you_."

Minho does growl at that one, a hard look marring the beauty of his sharp features, and Jeongin snaps his teeth back at him. Jisung stops the impending brawl with a sharp tug to Minho's chain, but his grin is sharp and brittle. He trusts Jeongin, the same way a snake and a weasel trust each other because they both hunt the same prey, and he owes many of his jobs to him, but Jeongin is not Changbin. "Careful with your words, Jeongin-ah," he says lightly. "The _thing_ can hunt little foxes like you, too."

Jeongin curls his lip, his eyes darting back and forth between Jisung and Minho, the atmosphere of the booth charged with the itch for a fight, but eventually he drops his gaze and his ears flatten. Minho purrs, almost, a self-satisfied rumble that Jisung can feel through the metal links wrapped around his palm. Jeongin risks a hateful glance at him for his cockiness, but Jisung's cool stare remains on him, and he looks away, silently awaiting his verdict.

"We'll let you have it," Jisung finally says. Jeongin's ears straighten back up, one of his tails rising high enough to be seen from Jisung's end of the table. "But we get a higher cut of the money. I'll leave it here with Changbin, come collect it whenever you want."

Jeongin just looks at him for a long moment, Jisung twisting Minho's chain around his fingers as he waits. The glimmer of dragon hide looks even better with a twist of silver framing it. "Fine," Jeongin huffs out. "Fatter paycheck for you it is."

"Glad we got that settled!" Jisung claps, snapping back into his normal grin. "Now, just the last thing. What does the killer smell like?"

Jeongin's eyes dilate. "_Delicious,_" he says, low, almost a snarl. 

Jisung makes an impatient noise, and Jeongin rolls his eyes, producing a scrap of fabric of his pocket, torn into strips. "Fine, fine, I'm just hungry, okay? This was the Hwang kid's jacket. Was on him when they found the body."

"Good, thank you," Jisung waits for Minho to sniff the shred of cloth. Once he's got the scent, he looks back up at Jisung and nods. He turns back to Jeongin as they make their leave. "We'll be off. Enjoy your food later. We'll be done before sun-up."

Jisung doesn't take the chain off until they're out of the bar. At the very least, he owes that to Changbin.

When Minho's tracking, he moves at an unearthly speed. Shadows wrap themselves around them as they follow the scent of their victim, singing softly in Jisung's ears, coaxing him in, whispering empty promises. The untrained ear would be led astray, but Jisung keeps his eyes on Minho's motion-blur figure ahead of him, wearing the shadows like a second skin. Minho remains unaffected. He used to be one of them, after all, one of the voices in the shadows, one of the movements you'd see in the corner of your eye and convince yourself was a trick of the light.

Minho's nose leads them to the river. It's deserted, the fog slithering over the surface of the rough ground their only company. At least, that's what Jisung assumes until Minho stops short. The shadows finally catch up to him, nestling around him rather than grasping at his edges, embracing him so tightly Jisung can hardly see anything other than his eyes, bright and piercing. Minho gets reckless when he's chasing after something, forgetting that they shouldn't be seen.

"He's there," Minho says, jerking his head towards the river. Jisung's surprised; the river is deserted for a reason.

"Do me proud," Jisung says, and with that, Minho is off again, Jisung following him at a more leisurely pace, hands in the pockets of his coat. There is no more need for shadows, so he lets them go, and they fall to the ground to follow his footprints. The fog parts wherever Minho steps, not wanting to touch him, and that leaves a clear path for Jisung to follow. He stops where the fog holds back, finally clearing his line of sight.

There's a figure bent over by the bank of the river, the line of his shoulders tense and his face partially hidden by the night. He can't be much older than the one he murdered, though Jisung hesitates to make that assumption. Jisung himself looks like he and this boy could be the same age. He cups his hands beneath the water and brings it up to his mouth, swallowing thickly. Jisung breathes out a silent, harsh laugh.

"Motherfucker, no wonder you were able to kill the Hwang boy," he murmurs to himself. There's a note of admiration in his voice; this kid is crazy, but Jisung can respect that. He could say the same thing about himself and the man he has on a leash. 

Minho races swiftly across the bank, coming up so quickly behind his prey that they almost fall into the river, but Minho twists his body so they land with a sickening thud on dry land. The boy struggles, thrashing violently, gnashing his teeth, clawing at Minho's torso. Oh, that’s fun. Their last few jobs went down so quietly it almost felt like Jisung was cheating.

He puts up a good fight, and with the river racing in his veins, he's doing far better than most would. It would've been enough to kill the Hwang kid, Jisung thinks. He almost wants to ask him if it's worth it, the power in secrets and sins in exchange for the wailing in his head and the bone-burning agony. In a way, they could be playing the same treacherous game.

He puts up a good fight, but Minho wins. Minho always wins. He has the boy pinned underneath him, gasping, heart hammering like the frantic flapping of hummingbird wings. Jisung savours in the way Minho looks, looming over his prey, pausing before the kill, tongue running over his teeth, danger wrapped up in human skin. His fangs glint for a moment, almost as bright as his eyes, almost as beautiful as they are ruthless. He bites into the boy's neck and rips his throat out.

The hummingbird slows down, grows heavy. Quieter and quieter, until it stops completely. Blood runs little red tracks over the ground, intertwining and diverging until they disappear into the river, just another secret, just another sin. 

Minho leans down, tongue out to lap at the pool of blood forming beneath the boy's head, and Jisung clicks his tongue disapprovingly. Minho looks up at him, caught, and pouts. It would be cute without the crimson staining his jaw.

"Jeongin's food is getting cold," Jisung warns, and Minho huffs through his nose. Petulantly, he tears through the fabric of the victim's shirt, sinking his teeth into his chest until he emerges with the heart between his teeth. He makes a show of spitting it out onto his palm as he gets to his feet and walks back to Jisung.

"Good," Jisung tells him, and that single word of praise has Minho brightening up, almost-purring again. Jisung takes the heart in his hands, bringing it up to eye level. It convulses gently, one last flutter of wings. Its veins are blotched with black, so thick and dark Jisung wonders how the boy could have drunk from the river for that long without giving in to the screams. The blood does not stain his gloves.

"Clean your face," Jisung says, looking away from the heart in his palms. Minho's tongue darts out again, licking at the splatter of blood across his lips. Already, there's a touch of pink high on his cheekbones.

Jisung rubs his thumb on the side of Minho's face, wiping away a stray droplet. "You missed a spot." He puts his thumb into his mouth, humming when the taste hits the back of his throat. "Oh, Jeongin is going to enjoy this meal. It's awful."

"Foxes have bad taste." Minho wrinkles his nose.

Jisung laughs. "You think foxes have bad _everything,_ baby." He transfers the now-still heart to one hand, and with the other, he unravels the chain looped at his hip. Minho lets him hook it onto his collar.

"Let's go, we still have to go back to the bar before you can eat," he says, and Minho's ensuing nod makes the chain clink softly.

They walk away, Minho now staying close to Jisung’s side. Behind them, shadows depart from their perch at Jisung's feet and swathe the body by the bank, delighted. When Jisung looks back, just to be sure, there's no trace of it at all.

Minho is starving. Jisung feels it, feels Minho’s fierce eyes on his face as they step through the doorway, as he counts the stack of money they made from just one kill, as he takes off Minho's chain, as shadows nip at his heels, wanting attention like Minho wants him. He, however, manages to keep on his best behaviour until Jisung unbuttons his coat, loosening his collar enough to show a tantalising sliver, and suddenly Jisung is pinned against the wall, teeth poised at his neck.

He is so, so close. Close enough for his icy skin to send shivers plunging down Jisung's spine. Close enough that Jisung knows he can track every breath, every twitch, every heartbeat. Close enough to the edge, so close that one wrong move could have both of them falling in.

"Minho," Jisung says calmly. Minho's teeth are beginning to break skin. "I didn't say you could feed yet."

Minho growls, a guttural, desperate sound that Jisung wants to keep in the spaces between his ribs. "_Hungry._"

"I know, baby, I know," Jisung soothes. He doesn't move a muscle. "You did really well today. You deserve to eat. But I didn't say you could."

Minho snarls, teeth flashing, eyes lit up like embers in the low light. The barely-there flush on his cheeks is so pretty. It ignites a spark of fear low in Jisung's stomach. Jisung does not get scared, not anymore, but with Minho, he comes close. Minho doesn't budge for a few moments, his incisors pressed against Jisung's jugular vein, inching closer to the edge, looking down and wondering if it would be worth it. But then he yanks back, closes his mouth with a vicious snap. Jisung breathes in, and Minho's gone, leaving Jisung's coat fluttering.

Jisung wonders how long he can toe this line; if he keeps pushing he's bound to stumble right over it. He takes his coat off, leaves it on the floor. Removes his gloves. Unbuttons his shirt for good measure. When he gets to the bedroom, Minho is waiting. The shadows move around him, gliding over to greet Jisung excitedly. Minho tilts his head to one side, looking the picture of innocence. Desire bubbles up within him, to take Minho's hand and pull him over the line, so far across they can never go back.

He ignores the shadows at his feet, climbing onto the bed and sinking against the pillows. Minho watches him. His nose twitches. 

Jisung tilts his head to the side, exposing his throat, and Minho doesn't need telling twice. He pounces on his prey, thighs straddling Jisung's lap, fingers digging into Jisung's shoulders. Jisung inhales sharply when Minho's fangs pierce his skin, sinking fully into his flesh, before pulling back out. He licks and sucks at the wound, making soft whines of satisfaction, catching every drop of blood on his tongue. His breath oscillates from freezing to blistering hot, burning. The pain makes Jisung light-headed, but the poison of the bite makes him feel _good._ Honey swims lazily in his veins. His vision is shrouded in a haze of pleasure. He looks down over the edge with Minho, and with each whimper Minho makes, the fall seems more and more tempting.

People whisper and point, calling Minho his pet, but Jisung could laugh right in their faces. _Pet_ would imply obedience, would imply submission. But every minute he spends with Minho next to him is an elaborate chess game. He has to play his pieces right, has to concoct an illusion of control, has to lure Minho into the mercy of his will and break him. He's not playing with fate, but with a monster, and that's so much more dangerous. Fate has no intentions, good or bad. A monster wants to eat him alive.

Jisung steps away from the edge. "Enough," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but Minho still draws away, swallowing the last vestiges of his meal. His eyes flash like the glare of gold on dragon hide. His complexion is rosy, the colour returning to his cheeks. When he smiles, his fangs are smeared red. He's horribly, wonderfully captivating. 

When Jisung cups his face, his skin is so warm it stings his palms. He kisses him. The taste of metal and something darker, richer, like pomegranate, blooms on his tongue. Jisung doesn't let Minho drink others' blood, mostly because it keeps Minho docile, wrapped around Jisung's little finger, but a part of him likes it when he is the only one he can taste on Minho's tongue.

Minho is purring again when they break apart, the red wiped from his teeth, lingering inside Jisung's mouth. He curls himself around Jisung, legs entwined, nose buried in Jisung's jaw. "I'm tired," he mumbles, lips ghosting over the two purpling puncture wounds on Jisung's neck. 

Jisung smiles, stroking Minho's hair. "Sleep, then."

Minho's eyes slide shut, his chest rising and falling evenly. Jisung looks down at him, now as tame as a kitten. The lustre on his cheeks makes him look so human. His collar stands stark against the glow of his golden skin. His face is so flawlessly sculpted, his body so perfectly defined, he could not be made of anything but darkness. He is the most beautiful creature Jisung has ever seen. One day, he'll be the cause of Jisung's death.

Shadows envelope them as Jisung closes his eyes, nuzzling up against their intertwining figures, singing of the horrors of the night. Outside, the sun rises, and the monster and his owner fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> wow. congrats for making it all the way down here, i hope i didn't ruin your opinion of me lol. it will (probably) be business as usual with the cute fluffy fics from here on out!
> 
> i actually included a couple references to mythology in here, one of which is pretty obvious and the other being more subtle. if you manage to catch them and point them out in the comments, well... you don't win anything but i'll be very happy! so let me know what you think they are
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/huanggeum) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/jingying)


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